


His Soulmate

by Vampiricalthorns



Series: Soulmate AUs [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Eating Disorders, Ed Swears, Ed's accent is inconsistent and butchered (on purpose), I'm Bad At Titles, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kinda, Love Confessions, M/M, Vomiting, i mean doesnt he always, literally nobody else has an accent, the tags are a mess i apologise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 10:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16831216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampiricalthorns/pseuds/Vampiricalthorns
Summary: Soulmate AU where everything your soulmate tastes, you taste too.From the young age of two, Ed had always had a weird taste in his mouth in the evening. A vile flavour that burnt his throat and had him beg his mom for something, anything, to make it stop. When it had first started, she would offer him a glass of milk, because milk was a flavour and tended to help. Naturally, he always refused because, in his opinion, milk was almost worse than the burning.TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of self-induced vomiting, eating disorders, alcoholism (briefly)





	His Soulmate

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything this long in one go, and also never for the FMAB fandom. Ed still has his automail and alchemy because I said so. Ed's accent is also completely butchered and inconsistent on purpose because I feel like ... he's a country boy but I can imagine him and Al consciously hiding it when they first come to Central. Now, Post-Promised Day, Ed's accent has been slipping inconsistently. 
> 
> The POV in this fic jumps a lot between Ed, Al and Roy- fair warning for that.

_From the young age of two, Ed had always had a weird taste in his mouth in the evening. A vile flavour that burnt his throat and had him beg his mom for something,_ anything _, to make it stop. When it had first started, she would offer him a glass of milk, because milk was a flavour and tended to help. Naturally, he always refused because, in his opinion, milk was almost worse than the burning._

_On the nights where the taste would persist for hours on end, he would be given a sugar cube or a piece of hard candy to suck on. It never removed the taste, but it helped to take the edge off it. One time, Ed accidentally told Al that he got candy, and Al had started crying for the simple fact that he didn’t get any. But then again, at that time, Al hadn’t had any funny tastes in his mouth either._

_Their mom had been quick to explain to them that your soulmate to taste every taste you had in your mouth, whether it was actual food or not. It didn’t surprise Ed all that much, because he had funny tastes in his mouth all the time- flavours he didn’t recognise. Once, after trying some of granny Pinako’s coffee, he found out one of the flavours that would usually invade his mouth early in the morning. He had sworn to never drink coffee again after that._

_For his birthday that year, he had gotten a small notebook to write all the flavours into. His mom had smiled when she saw him scribble enthusiastically into it and she had ruffled Ed’s hair, telling him that whoever his soulmate was, they were sure a lucky person for getting such a good and invested soulmate like Ed. And Ed has always beamed up at her, ignoring his childish scribbles._

Ed had found it odd that his and Al’s soulmates had never been referred to by genders. It made him wonder if his mom had known. All that heterosexual shit- Ed was fully aware that he was straight as the circles he drew for transmutation arrays, _thank you very much_.

Ed stared into his notebook, looking through the list he had recognised his soulmate eating or drinking since he’d gotten the notebook all those years ago. There were all kinds of things in there, from coffee to bread to soup to the fucking dreaded _whiskey_. The sole liquid that had ruined his childhood … apart from the damned Philosopher’s Stone- if that could even be regarded as a liquid, what with its many shapes. Red liquid, and the gold liquid flames that whiskey was. It burnt his throat and made him want to gag- not that it didn’t, but that was beside the point.

At this point, he should probably have gotten a new notebook too, but this one was special to him. Whenever it started to run out of paper, he would transmute more pages into it. The leather cover of it could probably need a small touch-up too, but since leather wasn’t something Ed tended to go out of his way to purchase, he hadn’t yet gotten around to it. But notebooks aside-

Ed sighed and looked at his lunch with distaste. Al was sitting opposite him, reading through some files Ed guessed he’d dug up right before lunch. Right after he had been deemed recovered and his body was back in the works, Alphonse had enlisted in one of the departments within the military as well as working with the Amestrian embassy in Xing.

Ed closed his notebook. He wasn’t particularly hungry, so he didn’t eat, but still, a strong taste of spicy soup filled his mouth. “Hey Al, what’s the soup like today?” It was something he usually asked because Ed knew that Al was still horribly fascinated with the ability to taste again.

Al looked up while downing down another spoonful, careful not to let any of it spill on his notes- which was probably something he was investigating at the moment. From what Ed could read upside down, it looked like something along the lines of some unimportant murder.

“It’s quite strong, but I think you would like it, brother.”

Ed shrugged as his only form for reply and Al looked at him worriedly. “Ed? Are you okay?”

He only looked down onto his now-closed notebook, deep in thought. “Hey, Al…? What’s the chance of someone else eatin’ the ‘xact same soup as us outside of headquarters?”

Al shrugged as if the question wasn’t something terribly important to him. “Pretty low, I suppose. I’ve never had this soup anywhere else but headquarters.”

As Al talked, Ed exhaled heavily. He dug out a pen from his uniform pocket (after the Promised Day he’d slowly taken to wearing the uniform. After all, he wasn’t a rebellious stupid kid anymore, although he still wore the uniform whenever he felt like it, and often only partially. Those pants were surprisingly comfortable dammit) and started to scribble into his notebook. “Remin’ me to never ask for the damn recipe then. I can fuckin’ feel the taste and I haven’t even had any yet.”

He could actually taste it and that sole fact upset him almost as much as his dumb country accent coming back. “Stupid soulmates. Prob’ly works here too if the burnin’ of my mouth is anythin’ to go by.”

Al stared at him as if the sky had just come crashing down on them. “Are you sure, brother? There’s still a possibility that someone else is eating this soup, so you shouldn’t get your hopes up too much about-”

“Shut it,” Ed muttered without looking up from his bowl, as he furiously devoured his lunch. It wasn’t particularly pleasant- military issued lunch rarely was, but he was desperate to get away from the fucking mess hall before he went insane. Suddenly, the bitter taste of coffee overwhelmed his senses and he coughed, accidentally swallowing some of the soup wrongly. He gagged and managed to gesture to Al that he would be back in a bit before he sprinted out of the mess hall, looking for the nearest bathroom as the bile rose in his throat.

Once he returned, Ed went to refill his teacup. It wasn’t a secret that Ed couldn’t stand coffee, not after his unlucky happening with granny Pinako’s serving. Which made him different from the rest of the lot working there, including his brother. A military job and a coffee addiction were basically synonyms. On his way back to the table his brother was at, he caught a glimpse of Roy Mustang talking to Riza with a frown on his face. Stupid bastard.

He sat down across Al again without a word and went back to his attempt at getting his lunch down. For the rest of the lunch hour he didn’t say a word but a brief ‘see ya’ to Al as they went back to their respective parts of the building.

Ed glared down into his notebook, more studying his handwriting rather than the actual words on the page. His handwriting was still shit, but after having six years of relearning how to write with his left hand after the automail surgery it had improved enough that more people than just Al, Winry and stupid Mustang could understand it.

He slumped into his chair and brought out his pen from his pocket before flipping to the right page of his notebook where he’d jotted down the important stuff that had happened on his mission a week ago. The paper meant for his report was already on his desk from his failed attempt earlier in the day. Slowly around Ed, the rest of the team filled in and he heard Mustang complain about some bad taste in his mouth and how his soulmate seemed to apparently throw up often.

He tried to ignore the way the remark set off alarm bells in his head and willed his mind to focus on the report in front of him. It was tedious work and he would rather be somewhere else, figuring out complex arrays or other equations, but he was stuck here at least until he managed to complete the stupid report.

Mindlessly, Ed flipped back to the pages where he wrote down what his soulmate seemed to taste the most. Soup, bread, coffee and luckily not so much recently- whiskey. Even though Ed was over the legal drinking age in Amestris (16) he had never really seen the appeal and his soulmate had long ago lessened the chances of it ever passing Ed’s lips.

He had just flipped back to the right page of his notebook and placed the pen against the paper when stale coffee invaded his mouth. Without thinking, he growled, “What kind o’ motherfuckin’ bastard drinks cold, stale coffee?”

At the exact same time he said it, he heard Roy cough and place a coffee cup back onto his desk. For a second, it felt like time stood still. Then, he looked up and made eye contact with the bastard for a split second before he realised that- _fuck_. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Ed froze before dropping his pen. Before anyone could say as much as “wait”, he was gone, the tails of his uniform flickering behind him. The door slammed and he was gone.

It took Ed exactly three minutes and thirty-five seconds to run over to Al’s department. He forced himself to stop and walk calmly- uh, as calmly as he could manage at the moment -over to AL’s desk. He held onto the table as he attempted to regain his breath. “We have to leave. I need to get out of Central for a bit. We’re going back to Resembool.”

Al stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Wait, why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ed cut him off. “I miss Resembool and I think I need my automail checked over. I think I might have outgrown my leg a bit and it’s making it hard to walk.”

 _That_ , as far as Ed was concerned, was a lie. But Al didn’t need to know that. He also didn’t need to know about the fact that his soulmate was the fucking general bastard. Not yet, anyway. Nor the fact that for the second time today, Ed had the urge to empty his guts. Al didn’t know; he didn’t _need_ to know.

But of course, Al wasn’t a complete idiot. He obviously saw how their earlier conversation at lunch had affected Ed, and how pale he was at the moment. And judging by the look he sent his older brother, he knew more than he let on. Ed stared back, challenge written all over his face.

 _He looks ready to bolt_ , Al thought, looking at his brother fidgeting with the braiding on his uniform. Ed wasn’t one to be fidgeting and antsy. And then it struck Al- Ed seemed _scared_. A rare emotion didn’t surface much. But after years of them being together, Al had been present for several of Ed’s nightmares; calling out for their mother, muttering something about not having an ounce of humanity left in him. Another realisation struck him like lightning. His brother, the most caring person he had ever met- rough and honest, sure -was scared to love; scared of being love and Al didn’t know how he could possibly calm his brother down apart from agreeing with him. So he got up and briefly talked to his boss, explaining the situation. It was a partially made up excuse consisting of Ed’s automail issue and some family thing.

Not that it really mattered. At least Ed had (somehow) managed to at least set his day of having his life’s biggest existential crisis as of yet to a Friday afternoon.

* * *

The train ride to Resembool from Central was quiet, with Ed staring blankly out of the window. Al had managed to get his hands on the newspaper from the day before and a bag of bagels from the last station their train had stopped at. The mundanity of reading a newspaper as a leisurely activity rather than looking for important clues to a case was refreshing. But then there was the case of-

“Brother?” Al asked carefully as he folded the newspaper and placed it on the train seat next to him. “What triggered this flight response from you this time? It seems to be affecting you quite a lot.”

Ed looked up and Al was suddenly struck with the fact that Ed hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since they left Central almost 18 hours ago. Al _had_ tried to make him eat several times, but Ed had either flat-out ignored it or muttered some excuse that he wasn’t hungry. Of course, Al saw right through the lie but judging but how … _unstable_ Ed seemed at the present moment, he was not about to argue.

Ed sighed while biting his thumb slightly- a nasty habit he had picked up years and years ago. Al knew it was because his brother had an odd tendency of managing to clear his thoughts easier with pain added to the equation. He _had_ tried to make it stop, but his attempts so far had been little more than futile.

“I found m’soulmate,” Ed whispered, his voice hoarse from the lack of use the last few days. “So I gotta run. Run away from’ere. Just- until’m certain.” A frown covered his face. “I jus’ wish- I … this stupid taste of fuckin’ whiskey. I’m never gonna have a fuckin’ drink in my entire life.”

Al leant closer, ignoring the whiskey comment. “But isn’t finding your soulmate a good thing, Brother?”

The question was quickly shot down with a shake of Ed’s head and Al could see his eyes before they closed for a second. Dull. _Hopeless_.

“Trust me, Al, s’not good at all. Trust me, it would’ve been better for both of us if I never found out at all. I- I shoul’never’ve gone lookin’ in the firs’place. What was I _thinkin’_ back then? Thinkin’ it could end well ‘tween-”

The muttering trailed off after that and Al sighed. He opened his mouth to respond, but Ed yet again beat him to it with a shake of his head. He did that a lot nowadays. “No, Al. Don’t. Nothing anyone says righ’now can make the situation better. Don’t even bother tryin’.” And then he stopped looking even remotely in Al’s direction and resumed his very thorough observation of the landscape flashing past them.

* * *

Once back in Resembool, Ed didn’t spare a glance for granny Pinako or Winry as he trudged up the stairs towards the guest bedroom. Al looked after him for a moment before gesturing to the two Rockbell’s to sit at the table with him. He took a second to judge their expressions and formulate his words. “Ed’s almost certain that he found his soulmate. He seems to think that it’s the end of his life.”

Winry leant on her hand, elbow firmly planted on the table. “Oh. Do you know who it is? Did he tell you? Because with his reaction, it seems to be some kind of crazy psychopathic serial killer he’s got himself tied up with.”

Al shook his head and looked down at his folded hands. “All we know is that it’s a member of the military that works in our building. I have my suspicions, naturally. We figured it’s almost for certain someone in the military during lunch yesterday when Ed got the taste of the exact lunch we had before even taking the first bite. It was a pretty rare type of soup. I’ve never had it anywhere else, not even when we’ve stayed for a prolonged period of time in East City or up in the North with the military. Then, not even half an hour after lunch’s over, he’s in my department asking rather desperately to leave Central and come here with some excuse that ‘he needs his automail checked out’. I think he just needed to get away.” Al paused for a second as he watched granny Pinako stuff her pipe and light it with a match. “We were only in our apartment long enough for us to change out of our uniforms since it would be suspicious to travel with them.”

Winry looked down at the wooden table and Al felt bad for her. She’d found her soulmate rather easily at age 15 and so had Al on the Promised Day, but Ed…

“I’m sure he’ll calm down and understand soon enough,” Granny Pinako said, “It’s always a shock the first time you realise who it i-”

She was interrupted by a loud thud from above and Al jumped out of his seat and raced up the stairs. He leant against the bathroom door, hearing retching and gasps and sobs from within. Al carefully knocked on the door, forcing on an expression of calm brotherly worry. “Brother? Are you okay in there?”

He heard a sniffle and some shuffling before the door opened a minute later, revealing a tired-looking Ed wiping the rest of his tears away. The top of his shirt looked wet from Ed probably rinsing his face under the sink to lessen the post-crying puffiness. He didn’t look up when Al placed a hand on each of his shoulders and drew him into a tight and comforting hug. _Closeness. Comfort_.

The action made Ed freeze for a second before he wrapped his arms around his younger (and sadly, taller) brother. Then, a sniffle and then another one and slowly, the tears started to soak through Al’s shirt. Behind him, Al could hear Winry come up the stairs. “Granny said she would make some food. You must be hungry from the long trip.”

Ed pulled away from Al and just nodded. He was quiet for the entire meal save for the few moments where he sniffled and proceeded to stare into his soup bowl. Fuckin’ soup. The thing that had started the entire chaos that had shaken his world into something unrecognisable. Once he was done- or not done at all, as well over two-thirds of his food was left, Ed picked up the bowl and spoon. He brought it over to the sink and filled the bowl with water so it could soak overnight. Then, still wordless, he left them for the silence of the guest bedroom. When Al joined him a few minutes later, there was no sound from Ed’s bed.

* * *

The next few days were uneventful, to say the least. Ed, much to Al’s concern, barely ate or drank at all and the only times he left the bed was for either the meals where he would stare mindlessly onto the table or his excessive bathroom trips.

In all honestly, Al wanted nothing more than shake his brother violently in the hope that it would rattle Ed’s ability to function as a human being back to normal. He wanted Ed to be happy again, to make him take a goddamn shower, to go outside with Den or to eat a full meal without it looking like it made Ed physically sick. Which it seemed that it actually did.

He had heard Ed in the bathroom at night, the terrible sounds of gagging tearing through the thin wall separating the rooms. Al knew that Ed thought he was asleep during his nightly escapades, but Al always snuck out of bed to refill the glass of water Ed always kept on his nightstand. He was always back in bed before his older brother was back in bed.

The Saturday afternoon exactly one week after they had arrived in Resembool, while Al was helping granny Pinako with making dinner, there was a firm knock at the door. Al went to open it and smiled mildly. “Hello, General Mustang. What brings you here?” He gestured for Roy to come in.

Roy stepped in after Al’s invitation and pulled off his black overcoat to reveal a white collared shirt and a pair of loose slacks- clothes intended for travelling while still remaining formal. After all, his rank right now didn’t accommodate for much lazy behaviour in the public’s eye.

“One of my subordinates suddenly ran off a week ago and forgot his notebook. I haven’t heard anything from him since and since it’s the weekend I thought I perhaps should make a direct housecall to the Rockbell household to see if I can find him,” Roy explained with a sigh as he hung his coat on the coat hanger. From what Al had already picked up, he seemed rather tired, with dark bags under his eyes. Al stepped towards the kitchen. “Would you perhaps like a cup of tea, sir?”

Before Roy had the chance to reply, he heard the sound of someone gagging and a door upstairs slamming. A moment later his mouth filled with the vile taste of bile, making his eyes widen. He coughed and forced his expression back into a calm mask of pleasant worry as he turned to Al.

“Did your brother by any chance catch a stomach bug, Alphonse?” Roy managed to get out before the flavour yet again erupted across his taste buds. He staggered for a bit and rested a hand on the wall next to the coat hanger to stabilise himself. It felt like puke was raising in his throat, although, logically, he knew it wasn’t the case.

Al shook his head. “I don’t think so, sir. I … I think Ed’s been trying to make himself sick on purpose the last couple of days. You see, General, brother thinks he’s found his soulmate, but it seems to be destroying him from the inside out and it feels like he’s trying to punish himself for a choice fate made for him. We know it’s someone from the military. Is that why-?.”

Roy let go of the wall and took a brief second to compose himself. “I know he’s found his soulmate, Alphonse. I suppose...” he trailed off, staring at the staircase that would lead him to Ed. _That would lead to him to another human punishing themselves for something out of their control_. He sighed at the realisation and turned back to the younger brother, a soft (fake) smile covering his face. “Would it be possible for me to talk to him by any chance?”

Al nodded and headed towards the staircase. “I guess he would be in the bathroom, judging by what he just did, so be quiet. He’s been pretty jumpy the last couple of days and I don’t want him to accidentally take a tumble down the stairs.”

As Roy made his way up the stairs he held onto the railing and felt the small bumps and dents in the polished wood. It seemed to be marks made by an automail arm gripping it tightly on multiple occasions.

He had just made it to the top of the staircase when the first door on the right opened and Ed emerged from the bathroom, with bloodshot eyes and messy, unbraided hair. The sight of Ed made Roy remember all the times last week when he had felt the taste of bile on his tongue. In the beginning, it hadn’t been so odd- after all, his soulmate could have just caught a bug. Things like that happened to everyone, after all. But when it felt like barely any food had passed his lips apart from small servings of crackers and probably inhumane amounts of water to curb the hunger, Roy got worried.

Then Ed stopped in his tracks, having noticed Roy and he stepped backwards, looking like he wanted nothing more than for the bathroom to swallow him. Before it could happen, Roy made a dash towards Ed and pulled him into a hug, something so out of character for him that it actually made Ed gasp in surprise as he stood still as a rod until the older man released him.

Then Roy glared at him and put on The Voice he only used when he was angry or stressed or fucking needed to get a message across. It was laced with authority and an attitude of ‘don’t question me’. “You can’t just run off from Central and skip work just because you found your soulmate, Edward. You’re an adult now, have some fucking sense of responsibility. And from what Alphonse told me once I arrived here, you’ve been barely eating for a week and forcefully making everything come up again as a way to punish yourself.”

Ed glared right back at him. “And what if ‘t _wasn’t_ on purpose and I jus’ caugh’some fuckin’ bug?”

Roy grabbed his flesh hand pulled it up, earning an offended ‘hey!’ from Ed. He turned it towards the owner of the hand and pointed out the small wounds and callouses on the knuckles. “You’ve got pretty clear traces of Russell’s sign, Edward. _Making yourself puke your guts out every time you feel bad or guilty for something is_ not _the way to go_. The behaviour you express is a literal fucking eating disorder. And even if _you_ don’t give a fuck about it, how do you think your soulmate feels when he repeatedly has the damn fucking taste of puke in his mouth all the damn time?”

Roy let go of Ed’s hand and clenched his fists in an attempt to control the emotions flaring up in him like fireworks. He was too angry to notice how Ed’s accent was inconsistently messed up. “Did you maybe for one fucking second think about how _I_ feel?”

By the end of his small speech, Al was standing on the top step of the staircase and Winry had emerged from the automail workshop to see what was going on.

Ed didn’t say anything, his expression flushed with guilt. He glanced down at his hand, letting his gaze rest on his calloused knuckles. _Russel’s Sign; commonly observed in people who repeatedly made themselves throw up, but also in practitioners of certain types of martial arts._ He looked up but didn’t meet Roy’s eyes. “I’m sorry … Roy.”

Roy only placed a hand on Ed’s automail shoulder, his smile the same as any he would have given a member of his team- controlled and calm. “How about we try to get some food in you, Edward?”

Al joined them downstairs and made some sandwiches for the three of them. Then, after that, he went on about making tea. Roy noticed, with a small smile, that Al seemed to enjoy the simple acts of making food, from boiling water to filling the teapot with leaves. “So, Alphonse, you’re fully recovered now? No major side effects?”

Al sent a pleasant smile in Roy’s direction. “I get dizzy easily. My blood pressure is low because my body isn’t yet fully accustomed to the fact that I’m a lot taller than I used to be. I’m mostly back to 100%. Sadly with all the perks, I’ve also regained my pollen allergies. You win some, you lose some, I suppose.”

“Yeah I suppose so,” Roy agreed. “Adulthood tends to bring about some nasty allergies that you never thought you would get, among other health problems.”

“O’course you’d know, bastard,” Ed muttered. “Talkin’ from experience, huh?”

Roy sent him a pointed look. “I will have you know, Edward, that I in fact am not that old, but considering the time I’ve been with the military I’ve been through quite a big amount of various medications, some of which I only started having a reaction to in later years.”

“Is there anything that would be necessary for us to know for the duration of your stay, sir?” Al asked as he set three cups on the table and poured the tea through a strainer into each of the cups. “If I’m right in the assumption that you will be staying here as long as me and Brother?”

“I will stay, yes, if it’s not a bother to the Rockbell’s,” Roy replied smoothly as he watched Ed scoop inhuman amounts of sugar into his tea. So that’s where the sweet flavour always came from in the morning. “And no, I haven’t had any negative reactions to over the counter medications such as for example paracetamol. And I doubt I would suddenly develop an infection requiring antibiotics. In that case, things would get interesting.”

He let a smile slip. “Although, I have given the hospital quite a fuss because of my complete intolerance for Valium and as I mentioned, penicillin. The two of them, not considering sleeping pills or pain relievers, are the most common medications used in relation to military staff, after all.”

Al sat down by the table and let a look of fondness take over his features as he watched Ed’s attempt to get diabetes. “Valium? Anti-anxiety, isn’t it? Hmm, yeah I suppose that makes sense. And brother-” he said, tone now stern. “You will eat too.”

Ed sipped his tea, obviously ignoring his younger brother and Roy sighed. “If you tell me there’s more than two spoonfuls of sugar in that tea, Edward, I _swear_ -”

Ed sent him a challenging look. “Consider it revenge for all the coffee you’ve ever had.”

Roy didn’t argue with that.

* * *

After the meal (that had taken them way longer than strictly necessary due to bickering), Ed got dressed and took Roy out on a walk around parts of Resembool. Winry had removed his automail leg to adjust it, turning his half-assed excuse to actual truth (“You have actually grown a bit taller, alchemy freak”) and he was stumbling along with the prosthetic he always wore when his actual leg needed maintenance. It had been quite a while since he last had used it since he was way better at keeping his leg intact than his arm. The only setback with the gaps of time between the uses- he now required crutches to get around without looking like a new-born fowl on rollerblades.

Roy sighed and watched Ed hobble along the gravel path, the crutches making small oval marks in the road. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. “So, it seems that we happen to be soulmates.”

Ed didn’t reply right away, and when he did, it had no actual connection to the question Roy had just asked. “Since you found out and’ve dealt with the taste of my puke for years, I guess you owe me ‘n ‘xplanation as to why I’ve grown up with the taste of fuckin’ _whiskey_ in my mouth ev‘ry night, robbin’ me of sleep ‘cause the taste would make me so fuckin’ nauseous. And then, after the war in Ishval was over and Winry’s parents didn’t come back, I tasted it even more often, during the _fuckin’_ day, Roy. You tell me that it’s a bad thing that I punished myself the way I did for fuckin’ causin’ my brother to suffer the way he did when it turns out my soulmate’s a fuckin’ dumbass alcoholic.”

For a moment it felt like all the air in Roy’s lungs had been punched out of him. “I’m not - not anymore at least. For a time I was. I did drink a very unhealthy amount for some time. I still do- I’m not going to lie. I still drink, but I don’t drown my problems in it anymore. Now, I mainly only drink in the company of others because it’s considered polite or when I’m taking a quiet evening to unwind with a good book.”

Ed let out an exhale and sat down on a patch of grass by the road and watched Roy do the same. He looked down at his mismatched legs. “Even though Al’s got his body back … I still feel guilty about takin’ it from him in the firs’place. I couldn’t deal with how unfair it was … so I started m’self sick. Because- if Al couldn’t eat, then … then why should _I_? I- I know that it sounds messed up and it made me feel really guilty when we found out that my body and Al’s body on the other side of the gate was connected. I tried to stop. ‘specially up in the North. But I couldn’t let go of the fact that I _manipulated_ my brother into somethin’ illegal and dangerous and made’im sacrifice more than me.”

Ed paused. “Sorry, I’m not really that good with words and now I’m just rambling. ‘N my accent’s actin’ up and it’s not even a good one.”

Roy nodded and looked over at the younger man. “It’s okay, Edward. I find your accent endearing.”

Ed nodded in return and met Roy’s eyes for a split second before looking away. “Anyways, then the Promised Day happened and we were all suddenly settled and I couldn’ really cope with being still, so I went back. Back to- to punishin’ myself. I thought I was broken. Al found his soulmate. I didn’. I knew I was gay and I knew- fuck -I knew I was in love with you. And I hated it. Hated every second of how a look at you would make my heart flutter. I couldn’t stand the thought of- of being attracted to you and - fuck I dunno what I’m even saying at this point. I jus’-guess I messed. And I still do.”

Roy placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get through it- together if you will. We both have our own demons that we are dealing with. And honestly-” he let a small smile tug at his lips. “Having you yell at me for drinking sounds like a better alternative than Hawkeye more than once pointing her gun at me.”

A small laugh escaped Ed and he slowly stretched out a hand to rest on Roy’s thigh. It was a comforting gesture, Roy realised. There weren’t any romantic emotions behind it. Ed nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I guess that sounds like a better alternative.”

Roy looked down at his hands before pushing himself up off the ground, brushing off any dirt that may have latched onto his clothes. Then he turned around and saw Ed with a flush across his cheeks, accompanied by a frustrated frown. “Can- can you maybe help me up?”

He couldn’t help grin as he placed his arms under Ed’s and pulled, making sure not to interrupt any of the mechanics in his shoulder. He watched Ed wobble for a moment as Roy picked up the crutches from the ground and handed them to him. He watched Ed stare down at the ground, muttering a weak ‘thanks’. Then, in a stronger voice, “Let’s go back. Walkin’ with this leg is a fuckin’ pain. The only good thing about it s’that it weighs less than my actual one.”

Roy followed the limping figure in front of him, now interested. “There’s something that’s intrigued me for quite some time. Do you have an idea of how much your automail weighs? Since it is metal, it must be quite heavy.”

Ed stopped for a second to rub the dents the crutches had made in his palms. The motion made the scars across Roy’s palms twinge in sympathy. “I’ve never known ‘ _xactly_ how much. It was never really a priority so we never weighed it, but it’s above 20 kg per limb.”

Roy looked over and watched Ed’s neck, observing the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders. He was only wearing a tank top, making it easy to see exactly how the automail affected him. “That seems like it would be quite strenuous on your shoulders and back. Do you suffer a lot from back pain?”

Ed shrugged dismissively. “Yeah. But I’m used to dealin’ with it. I can’t take most types of medicines or painkillers anymore though. Not after the automail recovery period. I was on almost continuous morphine in prob’ly unsafe amounts and it only took t’edge off of the pain. But it was the only way I could recover from the automail surgery within in the year period I had set m’self. A damaged liver was worth it.”

“You were desperate,” Roy noted as he placed a careful hand on Ed’s back to support him up the hill to the house. “I remember, all those years ago, I made you jump on the 9 am train instead of the one you planned to take to give you an extra chance to prove yourself to become a state alchemist. I placed you in a lot of danger that day. It probably did hurt to fight like that only- what -a couple days after you were deemed recovered?”

Ed gave another shrug and Roy could feel the muscles in his back tense. “‘Course. You saw me at the station afterwards, didn’t you? Firs’time I was properly scared about my ports and automail being rejected by my body. But I hid it and the pain settled after a couple days of taking it easy. But all the repairs I’ve gone through with for my damn automail- I’m genuinely surprised none of my nerves has fucking frayed yet.”

“Is that an actual concern to be worried about?”

“Nah, not unless I majorly fuck up the port mechanics.”

Roy laid a hand on the doorknob but he didn’t twist it open. “After we ate, I want you to stay with me, Edward. I would like for you not to puke your guts out the second you can. No- honestly. And-” Roy leant down and touched his forehead to Ed’s. “-in case you’re still beating yourself up about being my soulmate, there’s absolutely no reason for that.”

The blush that covered Ed’s face then was adorable, and Roy couldn’t help but smile at it.

* * *

That night, they went out on yet another walk- though this time to the graveyard so that Ed could pay his respects to his parents. Roy stood silently in the background after helping Ed crouch to the ground in front of the grave marked as ‘Trisha Elric and Van Hohenheim’. The scene strangely reminded him of how Riza had stood behind him when he visited Maes and reversed; how he had stood with Riza in front of her father and his old master’s grave.

On their way back next to a small lake, Ed stared wistfully at it. “Soulmates are s’posed to be in love. Do- d’you love me, Roy?”

The question made Roy think, plunging deep into the emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for years. Then, he too looked at the lake (though in all honesty, he was looking at Ed out of the corner of his eyes, although Ed didn’t need to know that. He probably did know, though.) “Not yet. But I admire you greatly. I think- if we ever were to get closer, to get to know more about each other than just work relations, yes, I think I would grow to love you. Love is built on knowledge and trust, both of which we currently lack an adequate amount of at the present time.”

The setting sun seemed to glow brighter after his statement and Roy turned his head to properly look at Edward. He noticed the golden glow dancing over his soulmate’s hair like flames and the golden eyes flickering like liquid gold. He watched Ed move both crutches to lean against a nearby tree before stumbling over to where Roy was standing with his hands in his pockets, watching the calm scene in front of him. He smiled gently at the younger man. “What?”

Ed yet again flushed, red spreading over his cheeks and down his neck. “Nothin’, you bastard. I jus’-”

He trailed off and placed a hand on Roy’s arm to stabilise himself. “Those damn crutches hurt my hands, so I thought I’d use you for t’only thing you’re good at- bein’ leant on. And my hands are cold and you’re not.”

“I would have almost believed that if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s 20 degrees Celsius (~68F) outside. Besides, one of your arms can’t even feel temperature. If you wanted to be close to me, you could have just said so,” Roy said with a gentle smile, moving his hand to wrap around Ed’s waist.

Ed let out an annoyed sound. “I don’t say stuff like that. I’m not good with words and you fuckin’ know that.”

“Now, now, no need to be rude, Fullmetal.”

“I can be however fuckin’ rude I want and it’s not like you don’t swear.”

Roy stared up at the setting sun, thinking heavily. “Touché, Fullmetal. Now, how about we go back? It’s starting to get chilly and I don’t want to have to carry you.”

Ed stared up at him. “Carrying me? You can’t fuckin’ carry me. Are you kidd- ah?!”

Roy grinned, watching the smaller man in his arms. He stepped over to the tree and grabbed the crutches. Then, he walked back onto the path towards the Rockbell residence, ignoring the annoyed cries of ‘fuck you you fuckin’ bastard’ and ‘let me _down_ ’ coming from the heavy bundle of human in his arms.

By the time they were on the porch, Ed had calmed down and had- it seemed to have fallen asleep. Winry looked up as they entered and covered her mouth to stop the snicker from leaving her mouth. “Oh my- he’s done it again. Al, he’s managed to do it again. Ed’s found yet another improbable place to fall asleep.”

Al stepped up from the kitchen and let a grin slip onto his face, though it didn’t defend the dangerous tone of his voice. “I hope he’s in good hands, Mustang. That’s my brother and you better treat him well.”

Roy only glanced down at the sleeping bundle in his arms. “Don’t worry, I will.”

He would treat him well.

_His soulmate._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr
> 
> If anyone struggles with anything mentioned in the fic, _please_ reach out for help. You're worth it!


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